


I believe in miracles, since you came along

by grahamcockroach



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Fluff, I hate titles, M/M, Pre-Slash, Supernatural Elements, alcohol cw for one part, im so sorry for the generic title, they get a lil drunk in one section
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27313753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grahamcockroach/pseuds/grahamcockroach
Summary: Freddie is sold a fancy old mirror from a man who appears rather disheveled, which he later finds  another soul trapped within.i suck at summaries just read this if u want some cheap fluff lol
Relationships: Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18
Collections: The Clog Factory Halloween Exchange 🎃





	I believe in miracles, since you came along

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PumpkinLily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinLily/gifts).



> hey!! this is one of my first fics, just pretend that in those world u can learn how to use certain kinds of supernatural elements and bend it to your will and its a common-ish thing ok

Freddie ghosted his fingers over the ornate detail of the pale gold frame. His stall was oriented around buying and selling clothing and art, but he had no rules as to what he could and couldn’t buy and was willing to make an exception. He could imagine it sitting beside the changing room as currently there was only an old frameless mirror which he found really did not match the look he was going for in his shop. He hated to get sentimental over something he had known existed for less than five minutes, but this one felt special to him in a way he couldn’t pinpoint.  
Running his fingers over the delicate-looking frame, he wondered if it was somehow cursed. Mirrors were a cliché cursed object, and his shop did advertise to sell hexed items like self-applying cat-eyeliner and Guaranteed Lucky™ items, so the seller probably figured it would be fine to give to him.

“How much can I get for it?” the skittish man in front of the counter asked. He was tall, skinny and had a ghastly skin tone, tied together with short oily hair and long dark coat: the exact image that popped into his head when he thought ‘creep’. 

“Hm, I don’t usually buy things like this, but this is rather nice, how much do you want for it?” Freddie asked, eyes moving back to the seller tentatively. 

“Uh- I’m not sure, I just want it out of my possession,” he said, wringing his hands. “Five pounds?”

“Just five pounds?” Why would you sell such a pretty piece of furniture for that? He put the mirror down gently and opened the drawer where he kept his profits. “Y’know, I don’t usually take things like this, but in this case,” he counted seven pounds, “I’ll take it.” He smiled at the man and held out his open hand with the money.  
The skittish man took the money, nodded with a slight smile, turned around and left without another word. 

The interaction with him left an odd, almost sour feeling in Freddie- He brushed the feeling off and replaced the old mirror with the new. He never really cared much about frame craftsmanship, let alone mirrors as a whole, but somehow it stuck in his mind. It felt off, almost as if he was overlooking something. He went over everything he had done that day, yesterday, the past week, and nothing came up; He even made a physical list of what he had needed to do for the first time since his school days. Nothing in his memory nagged him as hard as what he felt he was missing.  
He pushed the thought away by shutting himself in his room for the night and falling into slumber. 

***

The first week or so of owning it, there wasn’t much off with it. He had placed it to be almost adjacent to the tiny changing room of his stall, only seeing the mirror when he got up from his counter in the corner. On Tuesday, when he was going to open the stall he thought he saw the reflection of a blond man in place of his own, but it was only for a split second and he quickly brushed it off. 

The second week, abnormalities in the reflection caught his eye on average every day. The odd peek of the same blond man standing by the door, when walking swiftly by instead of Freddie’s reflection it would be the mirror man, which startled him near every time. Each time he saw the blond it was for a split second before he disappeared. Freddie noted that he was dressed in black trousers, white shirt with colourful suspenders and the sleeves hiked up to his elbows; he never had enough time to see what colour his eyes were but they were a light colour. It was at this point Freddie understood why it was sold so cheaply; though he was still intrigued by the mirror more than he was afraid of it. Use of the supernatural was somewhat common nowadays, albeit most use of it was purely for entertainment or helping with household chores and not trapping souls in objects, but thinking of the last possibility was an interesting concept in his otherwise uneventful life. 

The third week, the apparitions increased once more. He noticed the blond looking directly at him, brushing his hair out of his face, acting like a person. On Thursday when he saw the blond turn his head; in retrospect a very mundane thing but at that point it was foreign, freaky and new.  
He would be scared, but he didn’t feel threatened by the trapped soul’s presence. Whenever no other thoughts resided in his head he wondered what it was, he liked to entertain the idea that it was a ghost; a haunted mirror was something straight out of one of those cheap paperback novels they sold near the register at bookstores. More importantly, he wondered who the ghost was. Beyond his appearance, he really knew nothing about him; he could be a serial murderer and became trapped in a mirror as unusual punishment for his crimes. On the other hand, he could be the greatest being to ever walk the earth. The mystery of the whole thing was enticing. 

The fourth week was when it really got interesting. He caught the blond staring at him almost everyday, appearing so often he couldn’t ignore it anymore. 

Sitting down to write his sellings and purchases for the day, he flicked his gaze to the mirror, a habit he had developed over the past month. Unsurprisingly, the blond was looking straight back at him. The stark difference of how he appeared was the relaxed look he had, his head resting on his hands with a small yet cheeky smile emerging on his face as he met Freddie’s eyes. Usually, by the time they got to that point, the blond disappeared; but he didn’t.

They stared for what felt like longer than it really was. The blond was unmoving, beyond blinking and the subtle movement of his nose while he breathed. For the first time, the appearance of the man unsettled Freddie. Items considered “cursed” were generally feared and hidden away due to that fear, even more with items with trapped souls, the latter either being sent to a religious institution or locked away in rooms they would never be seen in; that along with never caring much about the subject of the supernatural had him being clueless as to what action to take next.

Freddie mustered up the courage to stand up; the man’s eyes followed him, but other than that did not move.

One step forward, he didn’t move. The blond looked like he could have just been looking through a window into the stall. His fear fell away the closer he stepped to the window, which wasn’t much of a distance. 

Freddie took one last step towards it, now directly in front of it. The blond looked up at him and smiled, biting his lip a little, placing his hand against the mirror. As hesitantly as he touched when he first came in contact with the object, he placed his hand over the other mans.

The man in the mirror smiled mischievously and yanked his hand back so hard Freddie was brought into the mirror from the shoulders up, somehow defying all conventions of physical objects, the glass of the mirror feeling more like the surface of water. “Now pull me out!” A raspy but youthful voice ordered. Barely processing what he said, Freddie fell backwards, the man in the mirror coming with him. Freddie tilted his head down to see a mess of bright blond hair on his chest, hand still clasped in his. The head of blond hair looked up at him, his eyes a striking shade of blue, beaming smile on his face.  
He looked a little different outside the mirror, for the first time Freddie noticed the softness of his hair, his long eyelashes, and the saturated pink tint of his lips.  
“Thanks, mate!” the same raspy voice said, clearer this time, pushing himself off Freddie and rolling on his back. He rapidly looked around the room, eyes settling back on Freddie. “I’m Roger, you?”  
Freddie, obviously shocked, still on the floor after being knocked back by Roger. “I’m, uh, Freddie” he responded, sitting up, “what the hell were you doing in there?”  
“It’s kind of a boring story, I’ll tell you another time.” The smaller man copied Freddie’s movement to sitting. “Nice store you’ve got,” he added, trying to sound and look confident but in hindsight it was obvious he had no idea what to do.

They sat in silence for a minute.

“So what do we do now?” Freddie asked. 

“The, uh, the person who sold the mirror to you is who I live with, I can see if he still has my stuff, it’s been what, a month?” He said the last part in a hushed tone, “But sometime soon I should check…” he added.  
“So you need somewhere to stay?” 

Roger let out a noise in between a choked gasp and a relieved sigh. “Yes, yeah I do”

Stumbling through an awkward conversation, they worked out that Roger needed somewhere to stay.

And it was probably going to be Freddie’s bedsit.

***

Freddie was not sure about having Roger live with him at first. He literally just climbed out of a fucking mirror, what kind of person gets cursed into a mirror by their former roommate? But just like his emergence into Freddie’s life, everything about Roger was a surprise. 

The first little while he was out in the physical realm again, Roger was somewhat off-balance and clumsy, more so than what he learnt was normal for him. It was kind of cute to watch him almost stumble about sometimes.

The first week of living with him, Roger was not shy, but almost afraid of bothering Freddie at every interaction, acting passive and doing little extra things like cleaning his dishes right as Freddie put them in the sink. The more they spoke, the less antsy Roger got.

The obvious, he was prettier than he appeared in the mirror. Superficial, yes, but it was the most easily observable element of Roger. The more time he spent with him, the more he noticed little things about him: his soft but masculine jawline, the extra bit of fat under his chin, and his incredibly gorgeous eyes paired with his long, pretty eyelashes. Sometimes when Roger was asleep or not paying attention Freddie would stare.

His laugh and smile were infectious, and he did so often. Roger’s expressions of joy matched his eyes in brightness.

Roger was far more interested in hexing and the supernatural than Freddie, and would sometimes help with cleaning things and little entertaining things.

Roger seemed legitimately interested in what Freddie had to say, every time they spoke he listened eagerly and responded with equal enthusiasm. A rather insignificant thing to note for most people, but with Freddie’s life experience with others, it made Roger endearing. 

He could really see a future with Roger, despite the short time spent with him thus far.

***  
Now over a month of living together, they grew much more friendly with each other. Roger began to go to the stall with him, going out to pubs and shops together, even walking to college with him on an unusually sunny Thursday.  
One night, sitting on the floor leaning against the couch, drinking and laughing at nothing, he finally mustered up the courage to ask:  
“So why were you in that fucking mirror anyway?” Freddie had held off from asking for weeks; weeks he hadn’t expected to spend with Roger in the first place. He held off asking out of not knowing when to ask, and the fear of touching a sensitive topic too quickly into their relationship.  
Roger visibly was struck with an uncomfortable feeling at the mention of the mirror. It took him a moment and a change in posture, but he answered. 

“Um, well… remember the person who sold it to you? Tall skinny guy? Kinda greasy hair?” he stammered through the sentence awkwardly.

“Kinda, yeah”

“I lived with him, he’s the guy whose place I went to, uh, the day you dropped me off at the flat complex to get my stuff. We got into a real bad fight and he put me in there” Roger cleared his throat, “we, er, we dated so we got into a spat and he did it” he added.

Dated?  
“You dated him? As in boyfriends?” 

Roger, immediately regretting letting that detail slip, froze. Sensing the quickly bubbled up fear in Roger, Freddie reassured him: “Oh, I’m fine with that, it’s fine, I was just curious, sorry to make you uncomfortable” he shuffled back in his place, as if to hide away from the embarrassment. 

“Oh, God, thanks Fred” the blond relaxed. “Yeah, we dated, he was much better at hexing than me so the power dynamic was a little weird,” he hiccupped in his drunkenness, “He taught me a lot, but I’m glad the fucker is out of my life now, he wasn’t great at anything but his spells really!” he laughed at the end, Freddie quietly joining in.

“So you’re single then?”

“Yeah” Roger turned to Freddie, who was too intoxicated to discern the underlying emotion in Roger’s expression.

They dropped the subject rather quickly after that, laughing through the early morning hours to things that probably wouldn’t be funny had they not been plastered.

***

They ended up living together much longer than expected. Roger had brought up moving out a few times, as to not overstay his welcome, but Freddie continuously professed that it was fine, even encouraged him to stay. 

Freddie thought about the fact that Roger had previously had a boyfriend more than he would like to admit. 

In short, he was absolutely smitten for Roger. 

He hated to get into wishful thinking, but he suspected Roger felt the same.

***

**Author's Note:**

> 7 december 2020: lmao i reread this and noticed some mistakes and it would kill me to not fix them SOOOOO


End file.
